


Thoughts Against Regulation

by kveikur (orphan_account)



Series: Thoughts and Actions [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Shippy, but doesn't know it, but not really, cecil is one hot mofo, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kveikur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil isn't supposed to think these thoughts, certainly not around Station Management.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts Against Regulation

It wasn’t necessarily that Cecil hadn’t ever _thought_ about asking Carlos out on a real, proper date, but thinking about it led to thinking about what might happen after it, and Cecil immediately became self-conscious of his eyes and his mismatched hair and his pale skin and put himself off of it. Because, though he definitely did not ever have any thoughts even resembling these, sometimes he wished he could be like Carlos. Not entirely, not totally _normal,_ but maybe he could at least have a miniature invisibility cloak for his third and very, very visible eye, or maybe just a little bit more color in his complexion, or maybe, maybe just a tentacle or two less. 

 

Of course, Cecil never, ever had any of these thoughts, certainly never ever thought about Carlos in ways he shouldn’t be thinking of the scientist, no matter how fantastic his hair was. Well, on the air it was all right. He could say certain things on the air and blame it on things like the glow cloud, or one of the other mind-controlling beings that occupied Night Vale. 

“Hello, listeners. I am extremely excited to inform you that our very own Carlos the Scientist’s hair has, finally, grown back to it’s original, luscious length.” Pausing, Cecil added, “He has not, as of late, mentioned any weekend plans. But, I remain hopeful.” He ran a nervous hand through his white hair, flicking his violet eyes to Station Management’s office window. Shadowed tendrils waved around and growling, shrieking noises came from within. 

Cecil, encouraged by the lack of attention he gained from his superiors, continued with his broadcast.


End file.
